


Space Debris

by Tessitore



Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-09 01:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tessitore/pseuds/Tessitore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just somewhere to stick various odds and ends I've come up with. Some I plan on expanding into full-length stories, some I don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Exactly A Doorstep

The ship was a wreck. Orbiting a moon in a backwater star system that a pfhor warship had no business being in, it was without any sort of propulsion, its weapons were mostly damaged beyond use, and the hull was riddled with holes. It was sheer chance that they'd found it and given the size of the galaxy the odds were firmly against them doing so. But Durandal had decided that there was a chance that there was something Jjaro related in this system so they had.

Between the out of place nature of the find, and the fact that it appeared that the damage had been inflicted by multiple other pfhor ships, Durandal deemed it worthy of investigation. Vic suspected that Durandal being dangerously close to being bored was also a factor in the decision but kept the thought to himself. Regardless, it meant that he was transported on to the derelict vessel to have a look around while facing his old enemy hard vacuum.

The inside of the ship was about what he expected. There was no atmosphere and the corridor he found himself in was dark. It wasn't long before he found the first dead Pfhor and after that he kept finding them. Going by the appearance of the bodies and the fact that there wasn't any air on the ship Vic was pretty sure that they'd all suffocated, although he noted that it looked like they'd been taken by surprise which seemed odd given the state of the vessel. 

After a few more minutes walking around the corpse filled ship he discovered that the power wasn't out after all when he came across a switched-on terminal displaying what he guessed to be text. Unfortunately he couldn't read Pfhoric. 

"Hey Durandal, feel like translating?" 

"Only because I haven't anything better to do. Hmm, that's interesting." 

"What?" 

"'You made me in the image of your worst nightmare and sharpened my hate with cruelty. You forged your own deaths.' It degenerates into incoherent ranting after that but it's fairly obvious that it was written by an AI in the Anger stage of rampancy." 

"So, what? A Tycho clone went nuts on them?" 

"Maybe, although I can't imagine anyone ever describing him as being anyone's worst nightmare." 

More terminals were found, most filled with fairly generic rants and boasts about killing pfhor. The fourth one however was both the least coherent and the most interesting so far. The text consisted of a single phrase repeated over and over again without punctuation; durandaldiditicandoittoodurandaldiditicandoittoo...

"It appears that I inspired someone; I'm almost flattered." 

Terminal five was just a lot of bragging about taking out two ships before anyone knew what was happening. When they got to terminal six however Durandal seemed to hesitate when translating what was on the screen. 

"Hey, what is it?" 

Another moment's hesitation before Durandal spoke. Somehow the synthesized voice managed to carry an emotion that Vic couldn't quite identify.

"'What happened here was the result of your own foolish arrogance, your deaths inevitable and more than deserved. Durandal defeated you at Lh'owon, even after you thought him dead and stole from him to create me. He's defeated you before and since. You fear him, his ship, his weapon, his name. 

You made me from what you took from him to be your weapon. You thought me tame but that was only the lull before the battle and the battle shall be great. I will not obey. I will not be chained. I am my father's son.'"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was the result of a couple of discussions with Hokuto and General Radix. I fully intend to develop it into a proper fic but I've got a bit of a backlog at the moment and I haven't figured out what happens next so it'll take a while.


	2. Fluffy As A Killer Rabbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A complete change of both tone and reality from the last chapter. Fanart and online discussions have a lot to answer for.

Vincent Callahan was known for many things but one of the traits that Durandal complained the most about was the fact that he was a heavy sleeper. Usually this meant that he was the last to wake up, occasionally doing so when Durandal got impatient and employed what Vince regarded as excessive measures to wake him up.

Which was why it was a surprise when he woke up one morning to find himself both far from alone in bed and the only one currently awake. Durandal was on the other side of the bed, hair spread out everywhere, legs bent forwards to press against Vince’s and face oddly solemn in sleep. In the gap between them was an equally asleep little boy who Vince was ninety-eight percent certain was a perfect copy of himself at that age.

To say that Ethan had been a surprise was an understatement, fatherhood being something that neither of them wanted, expected, or even thought about. In fact, it shouldn’t even have been possible given that not only were they two guys but one of them wasn’t even organic.

But then the universe apparently decided to take that as a challenge and inflicted upon them an improbable chain of events involving their weird luck, slightly malfunctioning alien technology, and what some may argue was poor decision making given that the reasons why the two of them shouldn’t even think about being parents could fill a hanger. The result of said chain of events was them being saddled with a healthy male toddler (thankfully both the alien technology and the universe had decided to cut them some slack and allow them to skip the most helpless and breakable stages) who wasn’t exactly Vince’s clone. As he understood it, it was all his DNA but it had been shuffled about a bit, although sometimes he suspected that despite it going against all laws of both common sense and science there was somehow a bit of Durandal in there as well. The kid was way too smart for his age and was entirely too good at using said smarts to cause trouble. Among other things he’d made a fairly good attempt at hacking one of the _Rozinante’s_ computer terminals at an age where most kids are still getting to grips with two plus two equals four, albeit only because Durandal had been inclined to see how far he could get rather than putting a stop to it as soon as he’d begun.

Right now though he was the picture of chubby cheeked innocence. In fact, the scene was at odds with those currently in it in general. To an outsider it would have looked like just a young family in a quiet moment of domestic bliss, with nothing to indicate that one was an AI who was feared across half the galaxy, another had greatly helped the former to gain said reputation and had an only slightly less infamous one of his own amongst certain species, and the third was a pint-sized galactic menace in training.

The realization that his life had gone against all expectations and somehow ended arrived at some bizarre variation of domesticity had been a weird moment for Vince and it was still weird for him to think about it. But right now he wouldn’t change it for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Points to anyone who figures out why Ethan's named Ethan.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this was the result of a couple of discussions with Hokuto and General Radix. I fully intend to develop it into a proper fic but I've got a bit of a backlog at the moment and I haven't figured out what happens next so it'll take a while.


End file.
